PhD
by twiddlekinks
Summary: [COMPLETED] Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pickup lines, and there’s the perfect protocol for passion. Er…
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

**Title:** PhD

**Author:** twiddlekinks

**Abstract:** Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

**Categories:** Romance? Some nice PWP eventually

**Pairings:** Draco/Ginny

**Rating:** T/M

**-i-**

**Chapter 1: Introduction**

_Ginny Weasley, graduate student in training, meets the PI from hell._

**-i-**

Ginny Weasley, redhead extraordinare, from The Women's College of Surry, one of the few wizarding/research universities in England, was standing in front of MIT. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The big kahuna of scientific research. She almost fainted.

"Hey, baby --," came a cheery chirp. "Are you a the square root of two? Cuz I'm irrational when I'm around you!" Ginny spun around to face …the spitting image of Harry Potter.

"Harry?"

"Er… who?" The dark-haired boy with emo-glasses looked startled. "Actually, my name's Rob."

Upon closer inspection, Ginny found that he was indeed not Harry. For one thing, he was a little shorter. For another thing, he was Asian. Upon closer inspection of the crowd around her, she found that they were all Asian.

The not-Harry guy grinned at her. "Actually, no. Sorry to detract from any fetishes you might be savoring, but MIT's not all Asian. The student body _is _30 per cent Asian. But right now you're just standing in a middle of a Japanese tour group. They come here often, you know."

Ginny gulped. A few cameras went off in her direction. Deciding wisely to ignore them, she turned to Har – Rob. Harrob?

"Rob."

"Er… yes? How do you do?"

She grinned. "Bamboozled out of my mind. How do you know MIT so well?"

"Oh, that." He grinned back at her. "I went here for undergrad. New?"

She nodded. She stuck out a hand. "I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

He grinned (again) and stuck out a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ginny-Ginny Weasley." Then he calmly tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and proceeded to show her around.

MIT was a whole new world. Not only did people here flatter their school with the nickname of "Hell," but they also tossed around complicated mathematical terms in the corridors and discussed complex scientific theories on the staircases. And there was a totally different language: The buildings were all numerical – her first class was in 54-100. She was a "Course 7 grad student" taking 7.06 (Molecular Cell Biology) for a refresher, and she had to TA 7.27 (Principles of Human Disease). Her students were majoring in 6, 10, and/or 15. Luckily, most of the graduate students in the biology department spoke in "normal" English. She quickly became friends with a sparkly Chinese gal named Vickie, who shared her profound love of clean lab equipment and autoclaved glass. Vickie's expertise, however, was in stem cell research. Ginny wanted to exterminate microbes of all kinds, or at least figure out how to prevent diseases in general. They were both searching for their first rotation, where they would each try out a lab, perhaps do a little project for the professor, and figure out if that was the place to spend the next four years writing a thesis. Ginny started carrying around her resume' and peeking into various corridors around MIT, reading the posters adorning the walls. There were so many possibilities… How could she choose? But between classes and Vickie and Rob, the scariness of being in a new place was wearing off.

It turned out that Rob was actually a second-year graduate student, working in two labs – one was computer science, and the other was microbiology. Apparently, he was trying to determine various genomic sequences of bacteria and virus species. Ginny got quite excited at the mention of bacteria and viruses. After she'd settled down, she began her classes in the biology department, and then one day begged Rob to show her his biology-based lab. He agreed readily, of course.

As soon as she walked into that lab, she knew that it was the right one for her. The refrigerators said "Bacteria culture!" and the incubators were labeled: "Macrophages only," or "Radiation experiments only." And, to top it all off, the glassware sparkled in the rays of the setting sun over a spectacular view of Cambridge, Massachusetts.

"I think I'd like it here," Ginny said. She pored over the posters adorning the walls. Even more perfect – the lab was working on anthrax. If you're going to go for one virus for a thesis, might as well get right to it, she thought. "I want to meet your PI," she declared.

Rob looked at her, startled. "I don't think so."

"Er… why?"

"Oh, he's positively demonic. Rants and raves and is a complete loon. Though apparently, he brings in the big bucks and knows how to write grants, and his lab publishes the most papers out of any of the labs here… but he's kind of a killer to work with. Has the funkiest tattoo, too… And that secretary…"

Ginny didn't care. She wanted to work on anthrax, and she was going to work on eradicating this thread to the world. She brushed Rob aside, and went to the office next to the lab. Knocked on the door, even. A harsh "Come In!" was heard. Rob gulped. And then Ginny was inside.

**-i-**

A dark-haired woman dressed in …something very short… was sitting at the desk, typing at the desk, red elongated nails clacking on the keys. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked haughtily, not missing a beat in the rhythm.

"Actually, I'm a first-year graduate student," Ginny replied. "I'd like to talk to the professor about his research."

"Ah, a rotation student, possibly?" The woman brightened. Ginny suddenly saw that she was about her age. "We haven't had a newbie in the lab for a while. We might finally have an opening this month, though. I believe that Paul's presenting his thesis some time next week." She swept over to another door on four-inch red heels. Banging on it, she cried, "Yo! _Professor_. A student! Fresh Blood!"

"Enter!" came the brusque reply. The secretary opened the door, and Ginny was inside.

**-i-**

The place was pristine. A bookshelf was laden with books and various journals, organized alphabetically. His desk was clean, with stacks of papers laid precisely along the edges. A wall was neatly adorned with quite a few diplomas. Undergrad at Oxford. PhD at MIT. Professorship at both Harvard and MIT. She whistled mentally. This guy must be quite the bright one.

The chair was facing away from her, and she could hear the steady rhythm of computer keys, yet again. "Just a moment," came the curt greeting.

Then the chair turned, revealing a wiry man with shockingly light hair and liquid silver eyes, wearing a dark green tie over a crisp white shirt. Ginny gasped.

It was Draco Malfoy.

He raised his eyebrow. "My dear, I've interviewed many students, but I don't often elicit such a surprised response at my luscious good looks. Are you quite well?"

Ginny closed her mouth and nodded. Running a hand through her hair irritably, she didn't know what to do. "Dangnabbit," she thought. "I knew I should've looked more carefully at those posters. But who could pay attention to the names when the research itself is so cool?"

"Why don't you take a seat?" Malfoy – _Professor_ Malfoy – gestured to an economical looking piece of furniture in front of his desk. "Now, are you a graduate student? Good. Thought you looked a bit young for a second. My lab doesn't take undergrads." He sniffed. "Where's your resume' then?"

Ginny was suddenly glad that she'd been carrying her maroon folder everywhere. She drew out a piece of paper. Her entire life, in statistics and awards, floated before her eyes. She laid it on the desk of the man in front of her.

He skimmed through it, speaking softly as a mental monologue seemed to pass through his electric gaze. "Hmm… experience working with microbes. Ah, Honeycomb – good woman. I met her at a conference last February. Best researcher in England. Interesting stuff involving microbial genetics, which I'm assuming is your forte. And for three years? Your own project and a few papers. And a grant, as well? Ah, an international fellowship. Not bad, not bad. Though you could definitely use a bit more focus in the viral department. Too much focus on bacteria – who cares about them, anyway?" He tossed her an affable grin, and she started. He frowned, then kept reading. "I must admit, dear, that you look too good on paper. There must be some catch." Suddenly, his eyes glanced to the top of her paper. "Ah." He looked up. "There it is. You're a Weasley."

Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Impossible." He gazed at her face. Ginny knew that she had become quite similar in appearance to a bright, incredibly warm tomato. And that the red on her cheeks was clashing horribly with the red in her hair. The professor looked at her for a long second.

"What do you want, Weasley?" He asked this question very quietly. Was he quivering? Surely not… The great Draco Malfoy would never… Was this where he'd been after all of these years? He'd disappeared at the start of the war, when Voldemort had unkindly interrupted all schooling. After five years Harry had killed Voldie and then Ginny had been able to return to school and go through undergrad at the ripe young age of 22, but not before chicken pox had taken Bill. A childhood disease, she'd learned. She had immediately insisted that they all get the vaccine. And no one had even heard of a vaccine before –

Ginny realized that she was getting off topic. And what was she here for? What did she want? "I want to develop a vaccine for anthrax."

Malfoy looked surprised. Ginny felt an unreasonable surge of joy. "I beg your pardon?"

"I want to work in your lab, er, Professor. I'm going to develop a vaccine for anthrax."

"There's one out there already, Weasley."

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm going to develop a _safe_ vaccine for anthrax."

Malfoy's eyebrow quirked up, and she could have sworn that his lip was tilting up, too. "Oh, really? And how do you propose to do that?"

"You're going to help me, of course." She hadn't been able to stifle a retort. She told herself that the old, shy Ginny had been left behind in Hogwarts her fourth year. This was confident, smart, and research-oriented Ginny. And if she had the resources of a brilliant MIT professor, then perhaps she could help save the world…

Oddly enough, this brilliant MIT professor happened to be one of the smarmiest gits she'd known at school. She gritted her teeth. He was probably going to refuse her, just because of her last name. Memories flew by, of taunts and hexes and curses, of white blond hair and flashing silver eyes and Quidditch bruises and --- okay, Ginny. Off topic, she told herself. Still, she should have been more polite. He was a professor after all. But Malfoy was saying something:

"Very well, Weasley. We'll give you a try. You start tomorrow. Lab meeting is at 730. AM. 56-970. Read these." He handed her a folder of papers. She almost dropped it – quite a few trees killed, there. He smirked. "See you tomorrow morning, Weasel." And the door slammed in her face.

**-i-**

(Note#1: A "PI" is the primary investigator – he or she is in charge of the lab, writing grants to get money, etc. A "personal statement" is like the entrance essay for grad students. You basically need to write about your experiences, your research, what you've done, what you want to do, and why you've picked that particular university.)

(Note#2: No, I'm not currently enrolled at MIT. I might've been there at one point or other, though…) ;)

(Note#3: Course 7 biology. 6 is Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, 10 is Chemical Engineering, and 15 is Management.)

(Note#4: The lab might be loosely based on a real lab at MIT, but the research is something I completely made up. I don't think anyone at MIT is currently working on anthrax research, but I didn't want to attribute any of my fictional stuff to a real professor, just in case the disclaimer isn't enough. There also isn't a Room 56-970. There IS a building 56, but it only has eight floors.)

(Note#5: Yes! I'm Asian! And the two sidekicks in this story are, too. Mwahaha….)

Author's Ending Notes: 8/2/05

First of all, I must confess: This idea was totally the spawn of real life. I'm a graduate student and I just started working in a lab at a highly prestigious university, and most of the other people the lab remind me of Harry Potter's world. (I probably need to lay off the fanfic.) No, seriously – we've got a tall, blonde Narcissa Malfoy; a pert and smart auburn-haired Ginny Weasley; a somewhat stuffy but with the glasses and dark hair Harry Potter; a knowledgeable and somewhat nervous brunette Hermione Granger; a soft-spoken but smart Cho Chang; a sports and drinkin' lovin' Ron Weasley; and even a nurturing Neville Longbottom. Sigh I do wish we had the Draco Malfoy, though… that'd make it perfect:) That said, this fic is my blend of sorcery meets science.

I was going to post a prologue called "Abstract," but it's a tad on the expository side, so if you really want to see how Ginny got to where she is and if you'd like to read more about her love of autoclaved glassware, check out my livejournal:

http / www . livejournal . com / users / twiddlekinks /

Specifically:

http / www . livejournal . com / users / twiddlekinks / 5438 . html

(Sorry for the odd spacing; fanfic's been formatting my documents oddly.)


	2. Chapter 2: Materials and Methods

**Abstract:** Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

**Rating:** Naughty, for some eventual smutfilled action

**-ii-**

**Chapter 2: Materials and Methods**

_Ginny was going to snag that PhD, and dangnabbed it if Draco Malfoy was getting in her way. Now, if only she knew where that dratted Primary Investigator kept the HCl…_

**-ii-**

Ginny had dragged herself into the lab the next morning, bright and early, arriving at 7:35am. To her vague and coffee-hazed surprised, everyone in the lab was there, and already in the middle of discussing a paper. Ginny plopped down in a chair. She'd stayed up till 2:30 in the morning just reading all of the background material Malfoy had shoved at her, and now she was expected to join in the discussion? She felt flustered, then saw Rob pulling out a maniacal computeristic term. She couldn't let a scraggly Harry-Potter-look-alike beat her at research, could she?

Ginny immediately leapt into the debate. "And yes, isn't the life cycle beautiful? I mean, those viruses…." She was surging like a tiger…crowing like a rooster…

…staring like a deer in the headlights?

Everyone was blinking at her. Including the aforementioned scraggly Harry-Potter-Asian-look-alike. Finally, Malfoy drawled, "Weasley, we studied the 'beautiful' life cycle of the virus last week. This week's focus is the computational aspect of microbial genetics. Something that was quite lacking on that extensive resumé of yours, if I remember correctly?"

Ginny's mouth snapped shut. Having lived in a magic-filled world, she had not needed any fluffy technological devices. She barely knew how to type. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Professor."

Malfoy looked startled at the apology. Then the sneer returned. "Just see that you actually catch up with the rest of the lab before jumping in head first, Weasley. Next time, we won't be so kind."

Next time? At least there would be a next time, Ginny thought ruefully. The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Most of the lab promptly forgot about Ginny's awkward first foray into their discussion, and introduced themselves to her after the meeting. Shaunna, a fourth-year graduate student, was a brunette with almond-shaped eyes, half Chinese and half Irish. Beaker, the resident post-doc, was short, with a large nose and gangly arms. Kristine was a cute butterball of fun, with hexagonal glasses. Rob, of course, looked like Harry-Potter-turned-emo-computer-geek. Mark, a third-year, had a beard, and put his long brown hair in a ponytail. As Ginny was pondering whom would be the best person to ask for advice, she felt a strong and authoritative hand on her shoulder. "My office, Weasley. Now."

She turned and meekly followed her PI back to his office. The secretary shot her a dark-eyed look, then fluttered her eyelashes and winked. Ginny almost gasped in surprise. Was the secretary _flirting_ with her? And did she look…familiar, somehow?

They'd arrived at the professorial inner sanctum. Malfoy turned on her irritably. "I don't know how you got along in Sally Honeycomb's lab. Did you even read the assigned paper?"

Ginny was taken aback. She had read every single paper he'd given her, and it had taken her most of the night to do it. She fired back, "I read _a_ paper. You didn't give me the exact paper for the lab meeting in the brief 'interview' we had, so I called up Rob late last night and asked him what you'd be talking about today and he said to search for the author on PubMed. I read the poster outside your office yesterday, and it was all about the viral life cycle. I came to the somewhat incorrect but inherently logical conclusion that, since that was a recent experiment, that's what we'd be talking about. It's not my fault that there are so many bloody papers by bloody D Malfoy that I got the wrong one!"

Malfoy looked like he was about to explode. Ginny looked at him worriedly. He must have been through a lot, transitioning from wizard to Muggle. What if he was about to have a heart attack? Too much stress around the place? It really wasn't in good form to blame a professor for her own lack of sense… What if he sacked her? What if he told every other professor at MIT about her hardheaded temper-prone ways? What if

…he burst out laughing?

Ginny was surprised at first, then chagrined, then just plain insulted. "I'm so glad that you find me so amusing, Professor Malfoy," she remarked dryly.

"Ah, Weasley," came the droll reply. "You certainly put the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional.' I'm but thankful that you can't use your wand here. I'm quite sure that you'd have given me a hernia otherwise. Now, come," and he crooked his finger, "let's find you something to do around here, shall we?"

He'd crooked his finger at her. Ginny refused to think about any implications of that somewhat innocent gesture. Why did Draco Malfoy have to practically ooze sex appeal?

…Ooze sex appeal? Ooze, yes, since he was a slimy bastard – but sex appeal? Not a chance! Though, now that she thought about it, not that she _wanted_ to think about it, he looked pretty good for his twenty-some-odd years. She wondered how he'd become a PI at such a young age, actually – most of the permanent faculty at a prestigious university were well in their forties.

"I'm here because I'm good at what I do, Weasley." He seemed to be reading her mind. "Now, you can only _stay_ here if you're good at what you do." Oh. Perhaps it was just a continuation of the lecture, after all.

He showed her around his lab, then assigned her a quick task. She finished it easily. (PCR? Pfft! Piece of Cake, Really.) Resisting the urge to yell, "Malfoy! I'm done!", she instead scampered over to the other students and post-doctoral fellows in the lab, striking up amiable conversations and asking them to explain various aspects of their projects to her.

In the afternoon, she was counting bacteria on Petri dishes at the desk assigned to her. "Aren't you done _yet_?" came a growl over her left shoulder.

Squashing her gut response to shriek, Ginny instead hurled the plate at the intruder. No sane person growled like that. She caught a glimpse of white-blond hair and silver eyes as the lid flew open. Horrifying visions of her PI drenched in bacterial media flew before Ginny's eyes. Her eyelids slammed shut. She gulped. Oh dear…

Oh, dear…

Ahem Oh _dear?_

She opened her eyes. Malfoy was still standing in front of her, immaculate as always. Between his right thumb and forefinger, he held the fragile plate. Tapping it once on the counter, he remarked mildly, "Weasley, you really do need to figure out how to control that blasted temper of yours." Raking his eyes over her lab bench, he turned a half-smirk her way. "If I had given you anything remotely lethal, it would have been quite disastrous. But in general, good work. You're done for the day. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning." With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

Ginny gaped after his retreating figure. Why did she always seem to royally flummox herself in front of her PI? Well… perhaps he had at least a grudging respect for her by now. After all, didn't she have lightning-quick reflexes, dedicated working habits, a sharp intellect? Or were those things at all obvious when she was flinging Petri dishes through the air? Ah well… a girl could hope.

**-ii-**

Soon, Ginny had signed on officially to work in the lab, and began researching for her thesis. Every day after classes, she would pop into lab, greet Rob and Shaunna with "Hey, baby – wanna test the 'k' of my bedsprings?" or some other nerdy pick-up line, then dive into the experimental world.

"Hey, baby," Rob said one day, sidling up to her, "Are you a laser? You get my photons all excited!"

Ginny giggled. Shaunna grinned tolerantly, then handed Ginny a note.

_Weasley – _

_Lunch, 1200p Today. _

– _DM_

Ginny looked at her, puzzled. "It's from the PI," Shaunna said, shrugging.

"But it's an invite for lunch," Ginny said.

"Ah," Rob broke in. "He usually has cycle of lunch with everyone working in the lab, one-on-one, once every one to two weeks, depending on how their research is going. I guess since you're officially enrolled in our lab, you're now on the Malfoy lunch-date list." He smacked his lips. "And man… the guy really has good taste. Last week, he took me to this fantastic Italian place –"

"Why, Robert," came a cool voice as the PI himself swept past, "I had no idea you took such… enjoyment in these lunches."

Rob immediately blanched, apologized profusely, then hurried away with a stricken look on his face. Rather than her usual reflex to be angry at the professor's flippant words, Ginny merely felt slightly amused. She'd seen an incredible change from the snotty spoiled brat she'd known at Hogwarts; Draco Malfoy was now a brilliant PI with astounding research and a very much deserved PhD. He was quite adept at networking; in fact, after a departmental dinner, he had announced that the lab would move to a much bigger research space way ahead of schedule. He always had tons of money coming in from grants, though she suspected that he used his own personal funds for all of the furniture and books and gadgets in his office. Ginny had also seen his patience while he tutored new students, herself included. Even if he radiated a chilly aloofness, he had a knack for explaining various complicated principles, and his students all admired him. Of course, that admiration might also have been due to his quick wit and classic good looks, Ginny thought wryly. Not that she thought he was hot or anything, but a lot of gals in his classes openly swooned.

And now, she had a lunch date with him. Now, if only she could produce some results before then…

(Note#1: PubMed – one of the most thorough search engines for scientific papers: www . pubmed . com)

(Note#2: PCR "polymerase chain reaction"; it's used to amplify copies of the piece(s) of DNA that you need for an experiment. A Petri dish is normally used for growing bacteria; it's a clear plastic disc-shaped dish with a lid.)

(Note#3: Nerdy Pick-Up Lines: One of the best collections of pick-up lines in general is on "Ask the Beaver," a site run by MIT students on dating/relationship advice. Check it out: http / askthebeaver . blogspot . com / 2005 / 01 / q5-pick-up-lines20 . html

(Minus the spacing, that is.)

Uber-Special Thank You to you lovely reviewers! Ya'll Rock (and that doesn't mean just igneous…)


	3. Chapter 3: Results

**Abstract:** Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

**Rating:** Naughty, for some eventual smutfilled action

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for my own MIT-spackled background, which might or might be correct. :)

**-iii-**

**Chapter 3: Results**

_All that work has to result in something, right?_

**-iii-**

Clam chowder. Ginny inhaled the comforting creamy scent fervently. The only remotely uncomfortable thing about the whole meal was the calm stare from two very molten-silver eyes, attached to the molten-hot professor in front of her.

Molten-hot? Ugh.

"Thank you for the lunch, Professor," Ginny said, breaking the silence. "I've never been to Legal Seafoods before."

Malfoy seemed to relax, just a smidgen. "Among the freshest seafood in Boston, or so I've heard. I've had better, of course, but since this particular restaurant is just a skip away from campus, the convenience factor compensates for any mediocrities of the place." He relaxed even more, adjusting his dark green Slytherin-style tie, stirring his iced tea. "Now. How are you finding the laboratory?"

"Good, actually. The lab is fantastic, the other students and post-docs are friendly, and the PI's doing cutting edge research. What else could a fresh first-year ask for?" Both of them were surprised. Ginny hadn't meant to be quite so honest or praise-ful. But then Malfoy smiled, a genuine smile. He had quite a nice smile, Ginny realized. Too soon, the flash of pearly whites was replaced by a quick smirk.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Weasley," her lunch companion drawled. "But I do appreciate your sentiments. Now, how's your assay for that protein coming along?"

"Fantastic, really. I ran the experiment once yesterday, and got pretty good results. But I'm running it again today to make sure they're reproducible."

"Good, good." The main entrees had arrived, and they munched in silence for a while.

"Professor?" Ginny suddenly remembered. "Some of the other graduate students were talking about funding, and they mentioned that a deadline for fellowships was coming up…"

Actually the conversation had begun with Shaunna working on the computers and Rob pouncing on her with, "Hey, baby – how about I tinker with your software while you turn on my hardware?" She'd immediately transitioned into, "Egad, Rob, have you seen this grant application? It's all online now, but there's still just as much red tape and fine print as always… It's gotta be over 100 pages long!" But Ginny didn't mention the finer details of that particular conversation.

Malfoy had raised his eyebrows. "Weasley, first-years usually haven't even picked their labs by this time yet. And you're worrying about fellowships already? As your PI, I'll fund you for as long as you need it."

Ginny nodded, albeit a tad dismissively. "I know, Professor Malfoy, but I've never liked riding someone else's coattails. I went ahead and looked at the grant application and filled out a few of the forms. I just need one more reference, and I know that I haven't worked in your lab for all that long, but we did know each other back in school, though you might not want to mention some of the more…unsavory details of that, but…"

She was babbling again. She cleared her throat. "That is, I have most of the application completed already. If you'd perhaps look it over and write me a recommendation, I'll try to send it in and you can put more money into the lab than into my tuition or stipend."

Malfoy looked at her. Were his eyes…twinkling? "I see. Well then, Miss Weasley, you're quite a find. I'll see what I can do."

**-iii-**

On the way back, she dug the fellowship application out of her backpack and handed it to him. "I'm also not sure about the format," she explained. "I'm not all that good with computers yet, but perhaps a more experienced eye can spot how to fix any of the glitches…"

"I'll have Pansy look at it," he agreed, stepping into his office.

"You'll have Pansy look at what, babe?" came a quick blip of lipstick and red nails, as the paper was plucked unceremoniously from the professor's well-manicured hands.

"Ah, speak of the devil. It's a fellowship application. Check the formatting and everything, would you?" With that, Malfoy disappeared.

Ginny stared at the closed door to the inner sanctum. Then she transferred her attention to the secretary, who was tapping her foot against the floor as she skimmed the details.

"Hmm… well, the title heading's right, borderline margins, references… you'll need three, you know…"

Something clicked. "Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?"

The dark-haired woman grunted grumpily. "That's my name, dearie, don't wear it out. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to look over your grant application—"

"Goodness, Pansy… you probably don't remember me, but I'm Ginny Weasley. As in, a fellow witch – er, non-Muggle. Schoolmate. From Hogwarts?"

Pansy Parkinson gave her the once-over. "Yes, dear. I could've recognized that hair anywhere. Had quite a chuckle about it and irony when you walked into this lab. And how's that luscious brother of yours doing?"

Luscious? Which brother?

"Oh, I never got to know all or any of them." Oh bother, Ginny thought. I must've said that aloud. Pansy continued blithely, "No, not as …deeply as I'd have liked to, really. Just a few tastes into eye-candy land, if you catch my drift."

Stifling a mental urge to emit an "Ewwwww!" Ginny decided to be mature about the whole situation. This lady held her grant application in her scarlet-nailed scarlet-woman hands. It wouldn't kill a Weasley to be nice, would it? "Why, Pansy," she replied drolly, "If you really want to get to know them better, I could arrange a visit. Enhance trans-Atlantic relations, perhaps." Er… that wasn't exactly 'nice' – it did offer to further any interests, but Ginny didn't really believe that Pansy really wanted to get to know any of the "poor Weasels" better. Hence, the statement kind of had a sarcastic edge. Pansy and Slytherins in general put Ginny on edge. But the secretary was nodding appreciatively.

"Ah, Miss Weasel – Weasley. Never one to back down from a challenge, are you? That might get you quite far in the long run, no pun intended. Ah, but you don't really think I'd think your beautiful bro's are that attractive, eh? Well, write to them, by all means. Let them know that two random snakes are in the pit of MIT. If they know what MIT is, that is. Most wizards don't. Ah, and here I am, chattering again. Clove?"

She extended a dark tube towards Ginny. "Er… what is that, exactly?"

"Type of fag, as in you smoke it, dollface. Goodness; you're quite the innocent, aren't you?"

"Ah, Pansy," came the quicksilver voice. "Besides the fact that MIT is a non-smoking facility and that you are most definitely not allowed to have fires around so many important papers, you also really shouldn't promote your wicked ways to the hired help. Grad students are precious; can't have you pushing up her health insurance now, can we?" Malfoy turned to Ginny. "You shouldn't try those, you know. They'll make your lungs bleed." He dropped a sheath of papers on the secretary's desk, gave Ginny a considering look, and re-disappeared.

"He's got a good point." Pansy winked. Ginny was a tad flabbergasted. "Yes, yes. A Slytherin winking at a Gryffindor?" Pansy laughed at her. "Dearie, perhaps I like talking to a fellow person-who-understands-what-the-word-"Muggle"-means. But in general, you'll find that in the real world, those things don't matter. And by 'real,' I mean Muggle, specifically science. Slytherin versus Gryffindor still means plenty in the wizarding world. But here, everyone's trying for the better, physically, mentally, or whatnot. You'll probably caught up in the drive to better humanity, whether wizard or Muggle. That's real." She winked again. "Insightful, wasn't that? Well, skedaddle on now."

Ginny skedaddled accordingly. That night, after a pleasant dinner of homemade dumplings with Vickie, she wrote a letter back home.

_Ron,_

_I'm working, and it's absolutely fantastic. The research is stellar. I'm getting really good results and might actually be able to publish a paper this year, which means a lot in the scientific world. MIT's really quite fun, and there are a lot of really funny people here. People who actually understand math and science jokes, that is, and are passionate about things other than Quidditch. Not that there's anything wrong with Quidditch, but it's a nice change. Oh, and Draco Malfoy's in charge of my lab, and Pansy Parkinson's the secretary. That said, you should all come and visit some time! It'll be highly entertaining._

_Your amazingly lovable and incredibly intelligent sister,_

_-Ginny_

_PS: And no, don't be worried. They're both quite nice._

Well. The first time she'd taken a suggestion from Pansy Parkinson. But Ginny had to admit – she was curious. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy had both changed. Would Ron trust his baby sister's own judgment, or would he be sufficiently incensed at the Malfoy-in-charge-of-Weasley situation that he'd come charging across the Atlantic Ocean? Well, even if he did, he'd soon see that the lab was wonderful, that she was happy, and that everything was hunky-dory perfect. Now, to work on that vaccine…

**-iii-**

A week later, Ginny received another imperial summons.

_GW –_

_Lunch. Noon. Today._

_--DM._

During their second lunch, they ate at Legal Seafoods again.

After a conversation of rather nice smalltalk, the PI sat forward suddenly. "Weasley."

"Er… yes, sir?"

"First off, don't call me 'sir.' Or Malfoy. Or 'Professor.' The one complaint I've had throughout the years is that people are scared of me. I'm trying to foster an amiable atmosphere in the laboratory, and, as is the tradition for many MIT labs, the PI's go by their first names." He grimmaced. "Which means that I'll probably have to call you 'Ginevra.' Ah well… can't be helped."

"But, sir – I mean, Malf – er… Draco? The other students call you 'Draco'?"

"Well, no… but they'll get to that point eventually." He smirked – no, not really a "smirk" – it had been replaced by a quick quirk of his lips. No malicious intent any more. Ginny wondered if she'd entered the fold, and was now part of the pack. Perhaps the smirk was reserved for outsiders.

She grinned. Honesty and first names. The great Draco Malfoy, somewhat unseated from his high horse. She was feeling more comfortable already. And, to top it all off, she was getting very good research results. In that moment, Ginny Weasley became comfortable with herself and her lab and her PI.

Malf--_Draco_ scowled. "Now, just because I think we should use first names doesn't mean you need to get all _happy_, Ginevra."

"Calling me 'Ginny' is fine, actually." She laughed. "You sound like a crochety old man, Draco Malfoy. You're barely a year older than me, and you've already accomplished quite a bit. Calm down, won't you?"

He started muttering. Ginny thought she caught a "three," and a "point" and "one four one five nine…"

"Prof—Draco," she exclaimed. "Are you reciting the digits of pi?"

He blinked. She blinked back. He blinked again, and she fluttered her eyelashes for good measure. With a final blink, he winked, then leaned back in his chair with a tired smile. "Ah, Ginny Weasley. Thou art a master in scholarly recognition. Yes, pi. I enjoy pi. As a mind-balancing exercise, I often recite as many digits as I can remember. It's a calming, albeit never-ending process." Ginny almost guffawed, but settled for an inordinately large grin.

He gave her a ever-so-slightly sheepish smile, then continued, "To be honest, I haven't the slightest idea how to foster camaraderie. I've been taught to revere respect and the social hierarchy. I know that my graduate students are amazingly comfortable with each other. I don't want to intrude on that, but I feel that we could all benefit if we were… closer… to one another."

"Ah," Ginny said. "Well, all of the students really do respect you. We tend to be a bit frightened when you saunter past, but in general we trust you. If there are problems, we turn to each other first, just in case it's something obvious and so we won't make fools of ourselves in front of the PI, but we know that you'll have an answer to something if we need it. And if we need particular lab materials, we know that you'll support us, and help us make quite wise decisions. You really are quite an excellent PI, you know." She hadn't meant to be so reassuring. But if nothing, Ginny Weasley was honest. Intellectually curious and quite a chatterbox when somewhat nervous, but in general, painstakingly honest. And her PI definitely deserved all of these statements. Even if he was a Malfoy. She looked at him hesitantly. The boy she knew at Hogwarts would just throw these compliments in her face, laughing at how odd she sounded. But this Draco Malfoy seemed truly touched. She thought she heard a whisper of "Thank you," but then the waitress appeared, and dessert was served.

The following lunches consisted of a bit more blinking and insightful comments, then turned into comfortable breaks with touches of conversational glee. Malfoy told her a few tips on running a lab, grant-writing, and networking, or "schmoozing with the big boys," as he aptly put it. He praised her willingness to tackle different situations and even inquired as to how she'd even heard of fellowships in the first place. She recommended that he listen in on some of the lab conversations and regaled him with the story of Rob and Shaunna interacting on the computer. He had scoffed at the pick-up line, but she could see his eyes twinkling. He gave her advice on the various experiments she was running, and she would read over some of the various papers he was writing. She laughed at his dry wit and he grinned at her pertinent questions. They usually returned to the lab in a flurry of chuckles, serious analytical conversations, or an ongoing competition to see who could remember the most numerical units of pi.

**-iii-**

One day, Pansy winked at Ginny as Malfoy returned to his office. "I see your lunch date went well," she commented, smiling slyly.

"Lunch date?" Ginny laughed. She was starting to like the secretary, but sometimes Pansy could be eccentric or absurd. "The weekly meeting, as usual."

"Oh, dear. The first step to solving a problem is admitting that you've got one."

Ginny stopped short. "I beg your pardon?"

"He's hot, isn't he?"

"Er…" Well, of course, Ginny told herself mentally. Not only had he been the Slytherin Sex God, but he was also very much in shape, very young and virile, very accomplished and academic, funny, in a sarcastic-witty sort of way, passionate about what he did (here, she blushed), a good conversationalist, and incredibly intelligent. The perfect guy, if not for the fact that he was her PI. Ah, yes. And a Malfoy. Couldn't forget that crucial bit. Ron would have a hernia if he knew.

Pansy had continued. "Don't worry, dear – I'm sure that all of the students would love to sink their teeth into him. He'll probably have chickies coming up here for extra tutoring lessons soon enough."

Ginny was aghast. Her PI took advantage of students? She immediately squashed the little voice muttering, "Well, _you're_ a student, aren't you, chickie? And would that be so bad? Nooooooo…."

Odd, how that inside-her-mind voice sounded remarkably like Pansy, who was chuckling. "Give him a _little_ credit, won't you? He _is_ smart, after all. And no, those visitors tend to be undergraduate teenie boppers. They'd definitely pounce on the poor ponce. And he could use a little bit of lovin', too, really. But sadly, they're not quite his type."

"Oh, really?" Ginny couldn't help retorting. "And the notorious Draco Malfoy, King of the Slytherins, has a particular type?" A retort? Goodness; Pansy always brought out either baffled stuttering Ginny or bickering smart-arse Ginny. Either one out and about wasn't quite healthy.

"Of course he does," Pansy replied loftily. "Doesn't every man?"

"Well, yes," Ginny conceded. "But Draco – that is, Prof – I mean, _Draco_ -- I mean, he's so… intelligent and…er… cool. But, ah, in general, I can't see him settling for any one type." Stuttering Ginny again. Perhaps smart-arse Ginny was an improvement after all.

"Well," Pansy said reflectively. "He hasn't. Not quite yet. Or maybe he has. You never know." She looked at Ginny appraisingly, raking her eyes from head to toe.

Ginny sighed. "Please, Pansy," she said, shaking her head. "I know you love to check out the hired help, but I'm not a slab of meat."

Pansy purred. "Ah, but such a delicious one you'd be, dahling." She looked Ginny up and down. "As long as I look and don't touch, you won't file for sexual harassment, will you? You Weasleys are such delights for these tired ol' eyes. Yes, I know that you're the only Weasley I've seen in a while. But I'm starting to absolutely love ye olde blazing red hair. Redheads are …passionate, aren't they?" Was that a growl behind the PI's office door? Ginny's ears strained to catch any more sound, but she heard nothing else. Pansy paused, then remarked quietly, "He used to be quite the playboy, you know. And then… well, a couple of things happened." She patted Ginny's chin. "But don't you worry, dearie. I think he likes you. Maybe even more so than I do. Now shoo!"

There was a thud in the PI's inner sanctum, but Ginny had already stepped out obediently and was walking out to the lab.

"Hey, baby – I lost my genetic code. Can I have yours?" Rob accosted her in the hallway, a grin on his bespectacled face. "Did you know, there are a couple of random people walking around, probably visiting some of the labs today? One has the coolest glasses…." Then, suddenly, a stricken look graced his features. "Oh, God – Ginny… you've got to help me."

Ginny was immediately concerned. "Sure, Rob, anything. What's up?"

"This!" With that, he kissed her. Well, "kissed" was a relative term. He kind of… smushed his lips onto hers. And immediately looked up, gasped, and scampered away. Ginny looked after him, startled. She heard a bang as the door to the men's bathroom slammed shut. "Hmm…" she said to herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her shirt sleeve. "Well, that was strange." Then she turned around

…and was immediately blocked by a chest. She stumbled, startled, and hands came around to grip her arms. It was a very nice chest, actually. Broad, but not overly so. A hint of wiry muscularity, adorned with a white button-down shirt, and a dark green tie with a silver embroidered snake. Uh Oh.

Ginny looked up, and met the eyes of a particularly livid Professor Draco Malfoy.

"Ginny Weasley," he said icily. "I came out here to correct any lies Pansy might've spread, and to apologize for Pansy's infuriating teasing or any disrespect she might've accosted you with, but I see you were being comforted by quite another means." His eyes flashed angrily. "I won't tolerate inter-laboratory relationships between my graduate students," he growled. "Not only does it harbor mooning and a lack of concentration at work, but it can promote unsavory liaisons in place of good honest work. And Weasley, a smart and beautiful scientist like you needs a truly worthy guy, not a scatterbrained computer geek with a penchant for dorky pick-up lines who looks like Harry effing Potter. I'm so sick of intelligent girls going for completely crass bungholes. You should know better. Stop pining over him!"

"I wasn't pining!" Ginny said indignantly, her mind whirling with her PI's raging ramble. "And, if you must know, Rob just told me that he had a problem, and then _he_ kissed _me!_ And _then_ he ran away! To the bathroom! So _obviously_, you have _nothing_ to worry about in the way of _inter-graduate-student-relations_, since I'm not even worth any _explanations_ and guys feel _sick_ when they kiss me in the first place!" She was yelling now. And she was talking in italics. Oh dear Lord. "And Pansy didn't really _offend_ me; in fact, since _no one_ looks at me in a _remotely_ checking-out sort of way, it's just-this-side of vaguely _flattering!_" Her lack-of-a-love-life was not supposed to be aired out in a public hallway. How very embarrassing. And not only had she been caught kissing a guy who didn't even want to kiss her and who was obviously very worried about something or psychotically crazy, but she was also yelling at her PI. "And _anyway_, Rob doesn't _really_ look like Harry! He's _Asian!_" And then she was tearing up. She'd had such awful bad luck with men, really. Especially Harry. Though they were quite good chums now, it was an awful sore spot, really.

"Weasley, stop crying," Malfoy said gruffly.

"And don't call me 'Weasley'!" She cried. "What about that intra-laboratorial _camaraderie_? I'm not trying to _ruin_ your lab, I'm just trying to get my _work_ done, and I have _no idea_ why guys _run away_ when they kiss me!"

Through her tears, she didn't quite catch the corners of her professor's mouth twitch up. "Ah, a profoundly scientific dilemma, Weas--_Ginny_. Perhaps we should analyze this situation."

Ginny blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

And then his mouth was on hers. Wow. As in, wowie-zowie-bipsmackity-goodness-with-a-cherry-on-top-zing-whoa-baby-WoW! His lips were hot, molten-magma-lava-hot, definitely at odds with his initially-icy demeanor. And Ginny found herself responding, tangling experimental fingers in her PI's soft white-blond hair. Yes! She definitely a crush on him. A huge admiration, physical-chemical attraction, intellectual connection, full-out crush. Verifiable in a very much physically obvious way. Gradually, as her crush crushed her against the poster-covered wall, his wonder-lips soothed to a smooth, cool-but-spicy sensation, like dark chocolate gelato with a dash of cinnamon sugar quills. Funny, that. Ginny loved dark chocolate and cinnamon. Weird combo, but oddly perfect. His hands had slid down her trembling arms, wrapping around her T-shirt enclosed waist. Was one inching towards her heinie? She decided that she didn't care. His scholarly-long fingers hitched into one belt loop of her patchworked jeans, and his other hand grasped the back of her neck, massaging her scalp as he slowly eased away. His perfect aquiline profile barely brushed her button-nose as he gave her a slow, lazy, definitely sexy smile.

"Now then," he murmured, tracing a finger along her cheek. "How can I know so many digits of pi and not the digits of your phone number?"

Through passion-frazzled eyelashes, Ginny grinned up at him. He was just so… unabashedly smart. And sexy. Yet dorky. And cool --

"Get your hands off her, you wanker!"

The two scientists, PI and student, sprang apart. Ginny groaned.

"Hello, Ron."

**-iii-**

hehe Evil? No, not quite.

(Note#1: Legal Seafoods is a chain of restaurants that serves many delectable seafood dishes. There really is a restaurant literally across the street from MIT's main campus.)

(Note#2: Post-docs are post-doctoral fellows. If you want to go into academic research, then after you earn a PhD, you usually need to spend some more time researching in a laboratory, but this time with the status of a post-doc. Post-docs are expected to know a lot, be able to conduct their own research, and write lots of papers. The PI helps by guiding them and providing facilities for them to conduct research.)

(Note#3: Assays are usually experimental procedures used to detect various things; you can run an assay to detect a particular protein, a particular gene, the expression of a gene, etc. Fellowships are like scholarships. You have to apply to various scientific organizations like the NSF or NIH and, if you're lucky, they'll fund your research. Otherwise, the lab PI has to pay both your student tuition and the stipend; graduate students are paid to work in the labs. Graduate students also typically get 'free' health insurance.)

(Note#3.14159….: Pi (π) is an infinitely repeating irrational number, specifically used in mathematical equations that determine the area of a circle (Area pi(radius)2).)

(Note#4: I've been an avid fan of echo and whereistruth for quite some time, and their various renditions of Pansy Parkinson were my faves. My version of Pansy has been influenced accordingly. Also, according to SkoosiePants, Draco's favorite food is pie. I figured that dorky Draco would enjoy a bit of mathematical pi in the mix. ;))

(Note#5: The chapter titles are the same headings that you'd find in many scientific research papers; that is, "Introduction," "Materials and Methods," "Results." The next ones will be "Discussion," and hopefully "Conclusion." If you'd like to read the background-informational/pilot-episode "Abstract," please refer to my livejournal: http/ www . livejournal . com / users / twiddlekinks (sorry for the odd spacing; there aren't any spaces in the URL, but Fanfic . Net is distorting it when I type it in).

And the whole story's listed in the "Memories" section, also: http / www . livejournal . com / tools / memories. bml? usertwiddlekinks&keywordFic + LongStories+ PhD + 28HP+ Draco/Ginny29 & filterall

I tend to post updates on the LJ, too, so feel free to comment there, as well:))

Goodness; this story's humble beginnings were a passing thought in the shower one day, and I'm so glad that people actually find it amusing. :oD I hope this post has answered some of your questions, and if there are math jokes, I'll try to explain them in the author's notes. ;) (haha And I'm a bio-major-turning-biomedical-engineer, so my math's a bit rusty, but the dorkic humor is still quite fervently alive.)


	4. Chapter 4: Discussion

**Title: **PhD

**Author: **twiddlekinks

**Abstract: **Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

**Rating:** Naughty, and this is a chapter with some fluff. Woohoo!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except for my own MIT-spackled background knowledge, which might or might not be correct. One tiny blip in this chapter refers to a portion of HBP, but it doesn't really give away too much of the plot.

**-iv-**

**Chapter 4: Discussion**

_Let's talk, Professor Malfoy. Lots of conversation, with a smattering of smut/fluff._

**-iv-**

Slowly, Ginny disentangled herself from the magical-molten-bundle-of-pi-recitin'-virus-analyzing-hot-smokin'-luv that was… her PI. Draco Malfoy, esteemed professor and voracious kisser. Ginny still felt weak in her research-loving knees. But that could be further analyzed at a later date.

"Ron," she said, "Calm a bloody bit down, why don't you? You're in the middle of MIT, for goodness' sake."

Ron's hands were still clenched tightly into fists, but he seemed to realize that they were indeed located in a public hallway, and that violence was generally frowned upon in esteemed research institutions. He visibly reddened, then took a deep and calming breath, and slowly deflated. Instead of a punch, he settled for a snort and a somewhat sharp tone. "Ginny, you might be a Weasley, but you're definitely mental. And even if you did have to come all the jolly way across the Atlantic to do something important with little glass tubes, surely you've got better taste than to taste a _Malfoy_. And, come to think of it, Malfoy, you'd better have a good explanation as to why you were devouring my sister's face or my fist might have to devour your own pretty little beak."

Malfoy looked shocked. "Weasley, I most humbly assure you -- while Malfoys certainly do many wondrous deeds, we certainly do not devour people's faces." He then sported a thoughtful expression. "I seem to recall however, your own antics during our sixth year…" Ron was turning red (again). "Tsk, Tsk. The pot mustn't call the kettle black, eh?"

Then he turned to his graduate student. "Ginny Weasley, I shall see you tomorrow at lunch. We shall continue to discuss the results of our experimental methods." With that statement and a (Was that really a wink? He wouldn't really _wink_ at her, would he?) glance, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Even in her obvious familial discomfort, Ginny had to admire the adept manner in which he'd offhandedly avoided answering Ron's demand for an explanation. Or maybe she was just enjoying the view of his fantastic arse as he sauntered past. Ah, but then she was left with the explanations. Typical Malfoy, she thought, but she couldn't seem to muster the appropriate resentment. She would've been much more bitter if she hadn't been so successfully snogged… which brought her, unfortunately, back to her fuming brother. Ick.

As soon as Malfoy had disappeared behind his office door, the aforementioned brother turned to his unrepentant sister. "Ginny _Weasley!_. What do you think you're _doing_?" Ron was indeed quite angry. Talking in italics seemed to run in the family.

"Research, Ron. It's rather simple, really…"

Ginny was then rescued by a most unlikely savior. A dark head suddenly popped into the hallway, grabbed Ron's arm, and started leading him down the hall. "Oh, don't worry, dearie," Pansy called back to Ginny. "I know how to distract wayward boys."

Ron looked quite scared, but definitely distracted. Wayward, even. He glared at his attacker's red nails. "And who the bloody hell are you?"

Ginny could hear Pansy's burbling laugh. "No one important, dearie. Don't toggle your pretty little head just yet. Come on, I'll give you a little …tour… And you really should stop disturbing your sister, you know. She's quite a wonderful specimen of adulthood, with the whole good head on her shoulders bit and all that, and you'd actually like whomever she associates with if you'd give 'em half a chance, really, and oh dear, am I chattering again? I suppose so… you don't mind, do you?" Pansy's monologue trailed off as the two stepped into the elevator, promptly disappearing from sight.

Ginny burst into laughter. She considered being worried, but then figured that Ron and Pansy could both handle each other. And if not, then Ron could use a lesson in …well, whatever Pansy wanted to teach him. Ah, the power of suggestion, Parkinson-style. Now, to talk things over with that PI of hers…

As she started down the hall, however, another dark head showed up. Black hair, emo glasses, white boy. Not Rob, then. Was he still in the bathroom? "Hello, Harry."

Harry Potter looked quite hesitant and uncomfortable among the scientific posters adorning the walls. "Um, I found your lab…" He looked around. "Oh. Where'd Ron go?"

"Away. With… ah, an acquaintance." Ginny looked around. "But why don't I give you a tour of the lab while we wait for him?"

**-iv-**

After seeing Harry look distinctly unnerved by the wall of test tubes, Ginny reasoned that her friend didn't feel quite the same fond nostalgia she felt as they admired the glassware. Then Vickie had dropped by the lab, and Harry had gamely submitted to a step-by-step explanation of DNA, gel electrophoresis, and the many uses of pipettes. Ginny definitely noticed how his eyes kept being drawn to Vickie, who was slim and sweet and smart. "Must be the Cho complex," she muttered mentally.

This train of thought was shoved off its proverbial tracks by the breezy entrance of Rob, who saw Harry and Vickie chatting, immediately paled, then grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her out the door.

"Rob!" Ginny exclaimed, once they were (once again) in the hallway. "What gives?"

"I," Rob said dramatically, "think that I'm in love."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I think I'm in love."

"Ah… well, ah, about that kiss earlier…"

Rob shook his head impatiently. "No, not _you_, you silly girl."

"Oh. Hmm… well, I think Vickie's sworn off dating, but I'm sure that if you talk to her…"

Rob interrupted. "While Vickie and yourself are quite beautiful in a reasonably aesthetic fashion, that smooch in the hall made me realize that my attraction lies with the more masculine sort. Sorry for taking liberties with your person, Ginny, but that quick kiss proved it. I'd never really kissed a girl before, and now I know: I'm indeed quite the gay one."

"Ah," she thought. "Well, even if he just kissed me to prove his own orientation to himself, I'm glad that kissing me didn't make him sick, after all." Aloud, she said, "It's okay, Rob."

"Thank you, you kind girl. I'm so glad we're friends. Two peas of the same trait, eh? Er… that was a vague reference to Mendel. I haven't quite worked out the phrasing yet." He paused. "I must admit, at first I was quite conflicted. I'd been conditioned to appreciate the beauty of girls all my life, but the icy good looks of our esteemed PI were just so…awe-inspiring? Sexy? Definitely tempting…"

Ginny couldn't stop a guffaw. "Ah, well, Rob, sorry to disappoint, but I think he's quite straight."

"Ah, that's a pity. He's a bit old for me, really, and student-teacher relations aren't quite promoted here. Though, that tattoo… that nearly did me in." Tattoo? Ginny thought. Oh, dear… hadn't Malfoy left England before the Great Wars? Or had he really been a Death Eater? Why else would a Malfoy get a tattoo?

But Rob had continued, quite oblivious to her wizarding reverie. "But I digress. All thoughts of Malfoy have fled, for I have finally met my match. My soul mate. And he's in _there_!"

Ginny paused. Which guys actually worked in the lab? Beaker? He'd been around for forever, and Rob's strange behavior had only begun today. But she did have visitors… She gasped. "You mean _Harry?_"

"Perhaps. Is he one of your visitors? He must be! Ah, Ginny! You could be the key to me meeting the love of my life!" Rob laid a flamboyant hand over his heart. "Have you seen the guy, Gin?" he whispered. "He looks like my bloody twin! The sexy English version of yours truly!"

"Well… You always have seemed rather narcissistic."

He considered this. "True."

Never one for blocking the course of true love, Ginny found herself saying, "Why not try it and see, then?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Are you trying to give me a hint?"

She laughed. "Actually, I have no idea if Harry's gay." With a shrug, she looked up at him with twinkling eyes. "He does tend to go for Asians…" Then, seeing his miserable look, she said, "Oh, Rob… just be yourself. If it's meant to be, then perhaps he'll find you irresistible. And if not, maybe you'll find someone else that looks just like him – er, or just like you. But maybe you should get to know him first, before jumping to conclusions."

Thus, arms linked together, they walked back to the lab. Shaunna and Beaker had apparently left for the day. Rob approached Harry with a hopeful gleam in his eye and a sense of purpose. Harry was sitting at Ginny's lab bench, chatting with Vickie about nothing in general and herself in particular. Then Rob broke in. "Hey."

"Hey," Harry replied. "What's up?"

"i x j," came Rob's quick response. It was almost a reflex, Ginny thought. The inner nerd in Rob was hankering to get out. When he got nervous, the geeky tendencies were amplified tenfold.

Harry, on the other hand, just looked startled. "Pardon?"

"Er… i-cross-j. It's a cross product pun. When you multiply two unit vectors, namely i and j, which go in the direction of the x axis and y axis respectively, and then you get k, which is usually a unit vector going in the upwards direction. Hence, the product of those two vectors is up…" Noting Harry's blank stare, Rob said sadly, "I guess you've never taken calculus."

"Ah." Harry looked apologetic. "No. I took, er… Herbology instead."

"Well, that's kind of cool," Rob exclaimed. He sidled up to the Boy Who Lived. "Speaking of plants, do you mind if I …exchange materials with your surroundings?"

"Er," Harry said. "We, ah, only studied the more, um, exotic breeds of plants."

"Hmm…" Rob said. "Well, do you like biology? How about this one?" He cleared his throat. "Hey, baby," he began. "Some dates have called me a promotor. Others have referred to me as a real operator. Personally, I think I'm just a cute piece of DNA who is still looking for that special transcription factor to help me unwind…"

Harry looked completely blank. Ginny and Vickie were laughing. "I don't think that science is Harry's strong point," Ginny remarked. "Sorry, Rob." Then, recovering her manners, she immediately introduced the two. Rob seemed to melt into Harry's handshake. Harry looked a tad nonplussed. Ginny arranged for dinner plans between the four of them and Ron and whomever showed up. Right as they were leaving, Pansy emerged with Ron in tow. The youngest Weasley brother looked thoroughly disheveled.

"Ginny," he said solemnly. "I've changed my mind. MIT's not so bad, after all."

**-iv-**

Dinner was a fairly uneventful affair. They ate at Royal East, a fantastic Chinese restaurant down the street. Not long after the scallion pancakes rapidly disappeared, Pansy and Ron started holding hands. Harry had looked startled at first, but then shrugged his characteristic Harry shrug, and ate his food in peace. Ginny couldn't help but feel amused. Pansy did like red hair, after all. Pansy dragged Ron out early, to "give him a tour of the nuclear reactor down the street." The two melted into the night.

After their departure, the love triangle became a brilliant shade of amusing. Harry kept trying to engage Vickie in a conversation, and Rob kept trying to get Harry's attention. Vickie, in turn, wanted to talk with Ginny. After a bit of hand signaling and impromptu phrasing, the two graduate student girls excused themselves simultaneously and headed to the restroom.

"How's it going, Vickster?" Ginny asked her friend.

"Ginny," Vickie groaned. "I don't know what to do here. I think Harry's cute and cool and all, but I really wish he'd stop trying to impress me with Quidditch stats. I mean, who needs sports when you've got sterile glassware?" She giggled. "Did I actually say that out loud?"

Ginny grinned, then sighed. "It's too bad that Rob's gay, then. You two could've been the perfect couple."

"Rob's gay?" Vickie looked surprised. "And here I thought that he was just intensely nice and nerdy. Hmm… is that why he rushed you out of lab today?"

Ginny told her about that particular conversation, then asked, "Um… is it really frowned upon for graduate students and PI's to date?"

Vickie stared at her, then laughed. "Ginevra Weasley! You've got to be kidding me!"

Ginny felt her hackles rising. "What?"

"You mean you've actually snagged that hot professor of ours? The one that all the gals drool over as he lectures about the nuances of viral reproduction?"

"Well," Ginny was extremely hesitant. "Rob kissed me today, and –"

"Wait a snail-speed moment! I thought you said Rob was gay!"

"Well, he is. He just kissed me in order to prove that to himself. He said that he didn't feel anything when he kissed me, and had previously felt stirrings of affection for both our PI and then felt that Harry was his soul mate."

"Ah. Well, then."

"Anyway, the PI himself saw that awful excuse for a kiss, and I kind of got mad at him, and he kind of kissed me."

Vickie raised her eyebrows. "That makes a whole ton of sense."

"It was… er… well, he got mad at me for intra-laboratorial relations. I, ah, lamented that, as Rob had rushed to the bathroom, any guy who kissed me must get sick when doing it. And Malfoy, er… disproved my hypothesis." She hesitated. "Funny, that. I wonder if he plans to actually further the whole 'relations' thing, if he got so mad at the possibility of Rob and me and lab-cest."

Vickie laughed. "You silly goose. He was obviously just jealous." She looked at her watch. "I guess we've been in here long enough. We probably should see how the guys are doing."

It seemed that, with no one else around to distract them, Rob had finally succeeded in capturing Harry's attention. If nothing else, Rob was a good listener and a charming conversationalist, Ginny realized. He also seemed quite interested in any sport involving the riding of a broomstick. Hmm.

Ginny and Vickie settled down at the table, and just watched the two men chatter on about nothing in particular. They pushed up their glasses at the same time in the same manner, noticed at the same time in the same manner, and blushed at the same time in the same manner. It was uber cute. Ginny and Vickie excused themselves soon thereafter. Rob took Harry out for drinks.

**-iv-**

The next day, Ginny received the customary note, with a twist of sublime.

_Hey, Ginny –_

_Want to balance my equation? Lunch. Noon._

_-Draco_

She wore a silly grin for the rest of the morning. Rob came in quite content, fresh from a leisurely walk along the Charles River with the Boy Who Lived. "We really communicated, Ginny," he said enthusiastically. "Harry told me about so much stuff that I'd had no idea about. I wish I was a wizard…" Humming "A Whole New World" from Disney's _Aladdin_, Rob sat down at his computer terminal and went to work. Pansy came in looking like the cat who'd eaten the canary, with a gallon of cream for dessert. She winked at Ginny, then disappeared into her office.

At 11:55am, Ginny started putting her pipettes away. Suddenly, she heard a voice over her shoulder. "So… how are you doing?"

"Fine," came the automatic response.

She could practically hear him smirk. "Yea, baby, and you look fine, too."

She burst out laughing. "You and the pick-up lines, Draco Malfoy. And that one wasn't even remotely nerdy." She sighed dreamily. "How lovely."

He grinned. "Lunch, then?" Ginny took his proffered arm, and the two strolled out the door.

**-iv-**

Over clam chowder and fried calamari at Legal Seafoods, Draco remarked, "I read your paper, you know."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Which one?"

"Your first one, I believe. I was searching for general microbial genetics, and dug up something on Honeycomb. After I'd read the paper – quite well-written, surprisingly – I glanced at the authorship. G Weasley, first author. It didn't quite connect until I saw your resumé in my office. Bloody hell, I'd thought it was some garrulous Muggle with an unfortunate last name working with Honeycomb." He winked at her. "The vocabulary was entirely too complex for such a simple subject, of course, but the paper itself had superb content."

Ginny grinned again. "Honeycomb insisted upon a few of the more… loquacious paragraphs, I believe. But in general, that paper began my headlong dive into science." She sobered. "That, and the chicken pox that attacked our family, I suppose." Switching gears slightly, she asked, "How did you get involved with science, Draco? I mean, you were from one of the families who were supposed to have everything, perfect lives included."

Her PI closed his eyes meditatively. "Ah, yes. Money and magic… it was the perfect traditional Malfoy combination." His eyes opened slowly. "But I learned the hard way, Ginny, that money can't buy everything."

The phrase was so banal, so overused. But coming from Malfoy, the old adage seemed apt, and it struck a chord in her heart. Or perhaps she recognized the profoundly tired look in his eyes. "What happened, Malfoy?" Ginny winced at her sharp tone. She told herself that she wasn't totally sure of his intentions, and didn't want to develop any deep feelings for him too quickly. For goodness' sake, whom was she kidding?

"My mother developed a sickness, Weasley. All the magic in the world, all the resources available, and she still couldn't overcome it. Of course my father wouldn't condone research; anything Muggle was quite below him, especially this newfangled 'science'. Even though one of our enemies had stumbled upon a rudimentary Muggle bioterrorist weapon, my father failed to see the implications of such. After the chaos, I decided to obliterate my feeling of powerlessness against tiny microbes. Thusly, I am currently waging war against one of the deadliest ones." He shook his head. "And once that problem's been solved, there'll always be more bugs to battle." He looked at her, really looked at her. "And what's your story? Assuming, of course, that a nice girl like yourself didn't stumble upon science from idle interest."

"Me?" Ginny laughed. "I've been interested in science ever since one of my brothers contracted chicken pox, actually. No one in the wizarding world had even guessed that there was a vaccine, or even anything like a vaccine. I started researching and trying to find different potions to cure him, but there wasn't anything available in our world at all, and it was too late." She sighed, giving a half-hearted smile. "Then I went to college and met Honeycomb, and learned that there are many wondrous inventions that we, as human beings, should utilize. We definitely need to bridge the gaps between the wizard world and muggle technology."

"I totally agree." Her PI looked at her approvingly. This was obviously not the spoiled-bratty, somewhat-thickheaded Draco Malfoy of the past. This was an innovative, inventive, and inspired young man, and Ginny could feel herself falling for him, one blink at a time. "Perhaps you and I will indeed make an impact between the two worlds, Ginny," he said. An unfamiliar look darted across his features. Ginny tried to decipher that look, but it was gone too quickly. They munched on in companionable silence.

"Have dinner with me," he said suddenly.

"Pardon?" she was startled.

"Have dinner with me."

"Like… a date?"

He smirked. "Ginny, I tend to not use such plebian terms. But call it whatever you'd like. Dinner at my place."

"And where will the food come from?"

"I'm cooking, of course."

"Whoa -- Draco Malfoy, culinary expert?" He was so totally the perfect guy. Gah! How infuriating.

He shrugged, then smiled. "More or less. What do you say, Ginny? You could come for the food, stay for the pi…"

She grinned. "With an offer like that, how could I refuse?"

**-iv-**

Draco Malfoy in an apron and oven mitts. They lovingly accented his bare feet, black slacks, and wine-colored collared shirt. Ginny decided that this sight was as distinctly yummy as the food he had served her. Lamb shank, mashed potatoes, a fine merlot, and bok-choy. She was in heaven. He kissed her after he set down the last platter, and she realized that she could happily grow accustomed to the feel of oven mitts cradled against her back.

After dinner, he brought out a pie, emblazoned with a "pi." How adorable! Though no one in their right mind would call Draco Malfoy "adorable." Sexy, yes. Smart, yes. Beautiful…of course.

"You are so beautiful," he remarked, as they sipped their wine after the meal. He was staring at her again, though Ginny wasn't sure whether he was analyzing or admiring. With the context of his previous words, she preferred to think he was being at least somewhat admiring…Previous words? Oh, yes --

She blushed. "You took the words right out of my mouth," she said. "But if they'd actually come from my mouth, 'beautiful' would be describing you, of course."

"Ah. Well, I'm not the one wearing a simple green dress that accents my soulful brown eyes and fire-lovely hair, am I?"

She considered this, looking at him up and down. "Hmm… I suppose not. You could try it on, though, see how it fits."

His eyes gleamed. "To do that, of course, you'd have to get out of it."

Her breath caught. Astounding visual imagery, that. "Ah. I'd, um, probably need help to do that. The zipper's kind of hard to reach…"

"Allow me." With that, he helped her up, and delicately assaulted her mouth with an intense kiss. She traced her tongue along his bottom lip as his adept fingers splayed along her hips and inched up her back. She could feel her zipper melting away, and the straps of her dress started to slide over her shoulders. His mouth wandered down her jawline, lightly skimming and caressing her neck, ghosting over the strap's wayward path. Looking up at her through silver, lidded eyes, he smiled a slow, lazy smile, passionate in its intensity. Her breath caught in her throat.

Her fingers were sliding through his soft, silky blond hair. She massaged his neck and fiddled with the collar of his shirt. Her dress slid around her petite body, then unapologetically fell past her waist. Ginny Weasley realized that she was standing in Draco Malfoy's arms, and the only thing protecting her was her undergarments. Not a bad position to be in, really.

But he had too many clothes on. She immediately set to work on the buttons of his shirt, allowing herself glimpses of a tight standard white undershirt. She lifted his shirttails out of his pants, and ran her hands underneath. Draco Malfoy, complete with a six-pack of muscles, looked stunning in a shirt, and exceptionally moreso in no shirt. His pants were slung low around his hips, and his wiry physique was truly something to drool over. Not that Ginny was drooling; instead, she was kissing every inch of his neck. He, in turn, was skimming the top of her bra with feather light touches, and they both seemed to want faster and faster. The passionate moment felt like a soft curling tendril that stole into her very veins.

"Hey, baby," he breathed. "Want to be sinusoidal functions? We could oscillate horizontally…"

And then their clothes were off, and they were touching, skin to skin. It felt electric, and oodles of tiny frissons shocked through her body. He settled her on his couch, then placed his hands on either side of her head as he hovered over her, raking his eyes over her prone form. She realized that she had an easy view of his forearms, and they were both clear. "Where's the tattoo?" her mind thought hazily. He twisted above her, grabbed his wand, and as he waved it with an incantation, she saw it – a marvelous dragon emblazoned on his back, wings spread and highlighted in glints of silver amidst the dark green. She traced her finger around the edge of the dragon's flame.

"You like it?" he asked brusquely, pausing just a second, and then he swept in, nuzzling her neck.

"I do, indeed. It's beautiful," she breathed, "Vintage Draco." She remembered one of her conversations with a Harry Potter lookalike. She grinned. "Rob likes it, too."

"Ah, that fellow. Well, tell him I'm already taken."

A warm flush diffused through Ginny's body. "If you say so."

"I know so, Ginny Weasley." He stopped suddenly, and looked her in the eye. "In all my years of traversing the wizarding world and the Muggle world, I've never met someone who actually strikes such a response – physically, you're absolutely lovely. Your coppery hair, your passionate eyes, your winsome smile… And mentally, you're quite a catch. Well-written papers, sharp analytical research sense, natural kindness to strangers, and a willing curiosity… We never got to know each other back at school, of course, but now… hey, I like it all." His nose wrinkled. "Except for your brother, perhaps. But that is neither here nor now." And with that, the discussion stopped for quite some time.

**-iv- **

(Note#1: DNA deoxyribonucleic acid; it's the stuff that makes up our genes. To separate out different sizes of DNA, scientists often use a process called "gel electrophoresis." Basically, you've got a gel that has several slots on one end, in which you put various pieces of DNA. DNA's negatively charged. On one end of the gel, you place a negative electrode, and on the other, a positive electrode. The shorter/smaller pieces will run faster down the gel, towards the positive electrode. The longer/larger pieces will be slower. Pipettes are used to transfer solutions from one container to another. (Phew! End basic bio lesson.))

(Note#2: Gregor Mendel is considered the "father" of genetics; he did a couple of genetics experiments involving pea plants and their traits. For example, when he bred a tall plant with a short plant, he'd get tall plants. Then when he bred these latter tall plants, he'd get some tall plants and some short plants.)

(Note#3: Royal East is an excellent Chinese restaurant, located near Massachusetts Avenue and literally down the street from MIT. I highly recommend the honey-barbequed-spare-ribs and the scallion pancakes and the baby bokchoy; they're most excellent there. :oD)

(Note#4: Yes! MIT really does have a nuclear reactor! It's pretty cool, actually, and you can arrange to take a tour of it. Pansy, however, does not give your standard "tour." She's kind of an odd bird, truth be told. ;))

(Note#5: "Snail-Speed Moment" : That's this joke:

So there was once this snail, and he liked to race – like in the Indy500, things like that. One day, he got himself a brand spankin'-new vehicle – red, with a turbo engine, etc – and he painted an "S" on the door of it for "snail." When he finally got to race it down the track, the crowd ooh'd and aah'd and said, "HEI! Look at the S-car-go!" (escargot?)

;) Courtesy of my sister, Leftywrite)

(Note#6: The "How are you doing/ Fine…" pick-up line is from a collaborative effort with my sister in our early fanfic days. Feel free to check out "H2O Combustion" http / www . fanfiction . net / s / 1390706 / 1 /

(If you liked "PhD," you'll definitely like Chapter 3, "Pick-Up Lines and Lucky Charms."))

(Note#7: PubMed usually lists the author names on papers as "First Initial Last Name." Therefore, Ginny Weasley would be "G Weasley." The first author of a paper is the one that's credited with writing the paper, whereas the last author is usually the person who's funded the work (like the PI).)

(Note#8: "bugs" is slang for "bacteria," though it can also apply to microbes in general.)

(Note#9: "Come for the food, stay for the pi." Is from Embellished's review. Hehe it was too good to pass up:))

(Note#10: Sinsusoidal functions; those are sine, cosine, tangent, etc. They go up and down infinitely. ;))

(Note#11: To get the updates uber-quickly, refer to my LJ. Look in the memories section for a listing of the fic:))


	5. Chapter 5: Conclusions

**Abstract:** Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

**Rating:** Naughty, and this is the chapter with the smut. Woohoo!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except for my own MIT-spackled background knowledge, which might or might not be correct.

**-v- **

**Chapter 5: Conclusion**

_Ginny Weasley, graduate student in training, and her further escapades with the PI who twinkled. Yes, this is the chapter with the actual smut. w00t!_

**-v-**

Rob was sighing again. It was the fourth sighing session that day. Ginny was getting a trifle irritated.

"Rob, either do your work, or just _ask_ the bloke," she finally snapped.

"Ginny," he said mournfully. "I can't. I don't want to scare him away. He's had only girlie-girls before, and he's so wonderful. Granted, I don't know much… But I know I love him. But is that all I need to know?" He shook his head. "Even computers don't interest me any more." He paused. "Man, my gay-dar really sucks."

Shaunna wandered by. "Well, you could always try a pick-up line on him."

Rob groaned. "Yea, and that went over soooo well last time."

Ginny shrugged. She had enough of her own problems without having to deal with Rob's. After a fantastic night of hot, cinnamon-spiced shags, she had zipped home, then returned to lab the next morning. Whereupon she found that her PI was gone.

"'Called away on business,' supposedly," Ginny told Vickie later. "The prat."

"Business? Ah, before you had a chance to talk about the proverbial 'last night'?"

Ginny nodded. She was feeling quite huffy.

"Well… maybe he really had business."

Ginny looked astounded. "Vickie, this is _Malfoy_ we're talking about –"

"Oh, so it's Malfoy again? What happened to that inter-intra-lab camaraderie shindig?"

"Vickie! He used to be the biggest player at Hogwarts. Girls were practically flinging themselves at him. He probably just used this opportunity to blow off some steam, embarrass the poor Weasley that's working in his lab, and then he ran away!" She paused as a shock of realization struck her. "Dangnabbit! He _ran away_!" She moaned. "Why do all of the guys who kiss me run away?"

"Tut, tut, Missy." Vickie said. "I think you've got nothing to worry about. Now check out this flask… I just autoclaved a bunch of them. Doesn't this one just _resonate_? There's an MIT acapella group based on that principle, you know. And the MIT Logarhythms are soooooo hot…"

**-v-**

That night, Ginny received an email from her PI.

_Ginny –_

_Yes, it was fantastic, and no, I most certainly did not run away. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a pouf? That said, tell your friend Fairy-Harry to have his program running by Monday._

_Baby, picture you as a substrate and me as an enzyme. Want to test the lock and key model? I'll be back tomorrow._

_-DM_

Oooh, he was good. Infuriating, perhaps, but not too shabby. Ginny wandered to bed with very sweet dreams, indeed.

**-v-**

The next day, Ginny knocked on the office door. Draco Malfoy, sexy beast, looked up, a half-smile playing around his lips.

"Hey, baby – asexual reproduction is for pansies…"

An irritated voice immediately piped up. "I resent that."

"But, my dear Miss Parkinson, you've never been the epitome of a flower. A venus flytrap, perhaps. Be kind to that fly you've got stashed away under the table, though. Return him to his friends eventually."

Ignoring the indignant Weasley-like exclamation from underneath Pansy's desk, Malfoy grasped Ginny's wrist and pulled her forward smoothly. "Now, if you'll excuse us…" He abruptly shut the door. Ginny, though blushing, laughed.

"Now, then," he said, looking her up and down. Her lab coat had gaped open to show a simple dark green tank top, and a hip-hugging khaki skirt that elongated her space-efficient-but-leggy frame. "Good gods, Ginny. I should instate a laboratory dress code. You make me fantastically exothermic."

And it was true. As he stalked towards her, she could practically feel heat emanating from his fiery gaze. Dragon, indeed. "Whew, Professor Draco," she said, fanning herself breathlessly. "You're exciting my electrons – wanna try some chemical …bondage?" She winked. That email had done wonders for her self-esteem.

Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly), his silver eyes darkened. "As a matter of fact…" and then he pounced.

Ginny gasped a second later. She was sprawled across Malfoy's once-immaculate desk. The papers had been shoved unceremoniously to the side, and her hands were pinned down by elegant, scholarly fingers. One of the handsomest noses she'd ever seen was nuzzling her neck, casually kissing. At first, she considered moving, but a very hot body was pressed against hers in quite a comfortable position. And she was nuzzling back. Mmm…

Soon, he was gripping both of her hands in one of his, and the other extremely dextrous hand started inching its way down her arm. It then zipped to her waist. She could feel his fingers against the bare skin around her hips. Then his hand was flipping up the hem of her skirt, and she could feel his hard self pressing against her most intimate of spots.

"You and me," he growled. "In parallel or in series?"

"You turn me on," she gasped through giggles. "Just flip my switch, Professor." His hand scooted along the tops of her thighs, encountered her wet knickers, and pressed accordingly. She nearly shrieked. Trying to control her raging body, instead she rained kisses along his jawline. He was tugging on the strap of her tank top, using his teeth to delicately scrape it along her shoulder. She shivered. He was utterly delicious. And he was quite a skilled teacher…

He'd somehow gotten rid of his pants and kicked them off. She took a quick peek. Oh my. He was definitely larger than the last time she'd seen him. Immense, even. Blotting out the horizon, perhaps. She wondered how he would taste…

His fingers had made short work of her knickers, and they were now huddled around her ankles. She raised her legs obligingly, wrapping them around his tall, lean frame. He groaned. "Ginny Weasley…" It was half plea, half warning. She tensed, then, just as self-consciousness tried to recall her mind back into rational-land, he was cupping her cheek and kissing her passionately.

"Pi's an irrational number," she thought hazily, "and it's not so bad…"

She was struggling a tiny bit now, trying to get her hands free, trying to touch him. He seemed to read her mind, and suddenly released her. She immediately twisted her hands around his neck. He, on the other hand, scooped her up and carried her to the luscious leather chair behind the desk.

After a half-yelp, she was appropriately straddling his legs. One of her legs was propped up beside him, while the other dangled beside the chair. She could feel him pressed against her tightly. Ginny was growing almost dizzy with anticipation. Draco was grinning at her lazily. "Hmmph," she thought. And then she ran a finger along his length. His breath caught, and she felt a surge of triumph. She caressed his inner thighs, just a little bit, teasing and playing. She could see his pupils dilating.

Then he grabbed her hips with both of his hands, and she was immediately settled around him. A slow "oof!" of air, and her arms were around his neck and her hair was blending with his white-blond head as he nipped and nuzzled her breasts, wrapping his arms around her and penetrating her body powerfully. She could feel each movement of him delving inside her. Ginny was seeing stars.

"I've always loved your hair," he commented, each word punctuated by an amazingly masculine grunt.

"I beg your pardon?" she gasped, barely grasping his words. How could the man keep up an intelligent conversation at a time like this.

"Yes, indeed. It's this lovely shade of fire, but not really fire, flickering and moving. I dreamed about seeing it cascade around me like this. It's not quite the same as your brothers' – thank Merlin – and your...er…ass-ets are so … firmly qualified."

Despite the hazy lust surrounding her mind, she grinned. "Thanks, Mal--Draco," she murmured. "You're not too bad yourself."

"And you, my dear, are positively wonderful." He looked quite serious. Ginny felt a warm flush, a tendril of …something… curling through her bellybutton. She kissed him lightly on the lips. His motions had slowed, and they were rocking together gently.

Was that a knock on the door?

"No, it wasn't," Draco growled. Suddenly, he was gripping her again and moving her rapidly around him. Faster, faster. Delicious, delicious friction, Ginny thought wildly. She could feel his fingers digging into her hips and their legs were rocking together oh-so-fast and she was grasping his shoulders and he was absolutely beautiful and then she could feel him shooting into her, as they pulsated as one. In one moment of orgasmic vacuum clarity, she totally understood the principle of kinetic energy. A ball of burning love, speeding into her heart, heat. Draco Malfoy was amazing.

Afterwards, they stayed nestled in the leather chair, curled around each other. She loved that he stayed in her, stayed to cuddle and caress her. He was much more… snuggle-wonderful… than she would have expected.

"Just for the record," he remarked, "I've never dated a graduate student before."

"Well, just for the record," she replied easily, "I've never dated a professor before."

"Good," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "Let's keep it that way."

**-v-**

Throughout the following weeks, Ginny was amazed. Not only was he phenomenal in bed (or out of it), but Draco Malfoy also added a whole other dimension to "pillow talk," or "post-coital conversation." Her previous experiences with such "conversations" had been grunts and snores. This particular PI partner, however, was quite the energetic one. Whether at dinner or in lab or strolling along the Charles River, he talked. He asked her questions about her past, her history, her research, a little about her family, and a lot about what she thought. He seemed to really enjoy her thinking process. He started inviting her into his office for quick logic puzzles or hypothetical experiments. If she analyzed through them thoroughly enough to his satisfaction, he would then satisfy her. And it was a quite satisfactory relationship, Ginny thought.

Rob, on the other hand, was seriously pining. Harry often visited the lab while looking for Ron, who seemed to be disappearing more and more. Ginny was starting to miss the familiar clackety-click of Pansy's fingernails. She tried to escape as often as possible to her PI's office.

Every time the familiar spiky black hair showed up at the doorway, Ginny braced herself for either blatant flirtations or profound mopey-ness. One day, however, even Rob had reached his limit. Harry had just dropped in, found the lab to be lacking Ron Weasley, and had contented himself with a side order of Vickie, who was visiting as well. As the two laughed over something in Vickie's Hello Kitty spiral notebook, Rob wandered over. Ginny groaned, then followed her flamboyant friend.

"Harry," Rob announced dramatically. "I would like to stick my j-omega pole at your origin."

Harry looked totally blank. "Er…"

"He doesn't like me…" White-faced, Rob was whispering to himself, appalled and shattered. Sadly, he turned away, into the hall.

Following him, Ginny cleared her throat. "He doesn't understand you, you silly boy." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You should speak in a language he understands."

"Understand what?" Harry had ventured after them, and was looking at Rob worriedly.

"I can't talk normally."

"I know." Harry nodded. "But you're pretty cool anyway. So it's cute. What was that you were trying to tell me back there?"

Rob had brightened, just a little bit. But then he looked puzzled. "Language?" he mouthed at Ginny.

Ginny sighed. "Harry, he was just asking you if he could …er… ride your broomstick."

Harry Potter immediately perked up. "Oh! Well, why didn't he just say so? You know, I've always wanted to share such a mind-blowing experience…" He licked his lips, then stared at Rob. "It's called a Firebolt, you know."

Rob was grinning, and his doldrums had disappeared. "And I'll bet it feels like a bolt of fire between your legs."

Harry raised one dark eyebrow. "D'ya know, it actually does." He winked. "I'm not sure if you can fly, but we'll get you up there somehow."

Rob had sidled up to Harry. "Maybe I could straddle the wood behind you, and you can guide me up." Ginny couldn't believe her ears.

Or her eyes. Harry was nodding, with a grin in his green eyes. "Sure. We should try it some time."

"How about now?"

The two guys sauntered out of the room, arm in arm. Harry was regaling Rob with tales of trouncing Draco Malfoy's pale arse while seeking the Snitch, and Rob was promising fervently to learn all about Quidditch.

**-v-**

Back at her apartment, Ginny told Vickie all about the fondly-termed Harry-Fairy debacle. Vickie had apparently had a long talk with Harry about it on a pseudo-date they'd had. Always the brave shaggy lion, Harry had looked puzzled at first, then intrigued. Apparently, he'd found Rob to be a charming companion, and he admired the Asian boy's sense of fashion.

"_And_ he wants to teach Rob all about magic and wooden wands," Vickie summed up, laughing.

Ginny groaned. "Quite frankly, I don't know how much Harry himself knows. I can't believe that The Boy Who Lived is now The Boy Who Likes Other Boys. It's so out of this world!"

"Well," Vickie said conspiratorially, "He told me not to tell you, but apparently he's had a crush on some poor guy named 'Bilius.'"

Ginny gasped. "Erm…"

Vickie looked startled. "You mean he actually exists?"

"Er…" Ginny managed to squeak out. "He's… ah… that's Ron's middle name."

Vickie stared at her, then suddenly collapsed onto her chair. "Hmm. "Their names only differ by one letter, really. Ron…Rob… That's so… totally… perfect." She grinned wickedly.

Ginny scoffed. "I'm not so sure about _that_." Then she looked thoughtful. "Though I wonder, if Ron had known, would he still have chosen Pansy?" She grimaced. "Disturbing imagery either way."

Vickie grinned. "Well, they might be quite the odd couple, but I think Pansy's having more fun than even she bargained for. She came here working with Professor Malfoy, you know. According to Shaunna, she hadn't had too many long-ish relationships. Perhaps your brother's lucky." She chuckled. "I'll bet you're glad that I convinced Harry of the superiority of the Asian species. I'm quite happy he agreed to test that theory, so long as the experiment isn't me. Besides, I like redheads." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. "But aren't Rob and Harry the perfect couple? They're so cute… Almost like twins! I like twins…" She paused, then asked sweetly, "Ginny, don't twins run in your family?"

Ginny threw a pillow at her. The two girls giggled, then went to bed.

**-v-**

Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy were in the laboratory late one Friday night, pondering over the exact chemical composition for delivering the attenuated virus to human beings. They kept scribbling notes and various ideas in her laboratory notebook. Finally, however, after about three hours, Ginny became quite annoyed. Malfoy was disheveling her lab notebook, and though he was making rather logical points, they were no farther than they'd been before.

They heard quite a ruckus in the supply closet. A tumble of boxes later, the door opened, and Ron stepped out, leading Pansy by the hand. They were both giggling and guffawing. Ginny caught the slightly sweet scent of cloves. Malfoy raised one eyebrow. "Obviously the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional' arises from your lovely Pansy-smitten brother. Ginny, I often wonder: where _do_ you get those brains of yours? Certainly not the normal gene pool?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps I just got used to putting the 'smart' in 'smart ass.' Any problems with that?"

He blinked, then raked his eyes over her petite form. "Weasley," he said, "No matter what you might say about your hindquarters, 'smart' is not the first word that comes to mind."

"Oh yea?" she raised her eyebrows in a challenge. "And what words would you use, you big Dict – tionary, you?"

Choosing to ignore her blatant reference to one of her favorite Malfoy parts, he merely replied, "Why, your whole form is exquisitely callipygian."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "That's one of my favorite words." She grinned, then sobered. "I have no ass, really. Too many years of playing Quidditch."

"Ah, but Miss Weasley, what little ass you have is still beautifully proportioned."

She grinned. "Thanks. That means a lot to me."

"Ah," he said. "Well, you mean a lot to me."

The room was quite quiet. They both stared at her lab notebook.

"What?" he said, after a few minutes. "Was it something I said?"

"I had no idea that you'd actually care for me, Professor Draco," she finally murmured softly.

He looked at her, a funny, wide-eyed look on his face. Was Draco Malfoy flabbergasted? "Why, I thought my signals were perfectly clear! You just took your time about being shy and perfectly polite."

"What do you mean, signals? We had perfectly good, intellectually-normal conversations. Then we, er, shagged."

"Ginny Weasley! 'Er, shagged'? You make it sound like a hesitant carpet. And I am much more skilled than any rug you'll find." He shook his head. "It was obviously obvious, you loony rapscallion. I invited you to lunch more often than any other grad student! Yes, yes, we did have a lot to talk about, but I took you to excellent restaurants."

"Well, you did take Rob to some excellent Italian place…"

He was shaking his head. "Ginny, I might be many things, but I am most definitely not gay." He paused reflectively. "Besides that, I believe it was the kid's birthday, and he'd just written his first paper." He sighed. "But that is neither here nor now. Ginny, you adorable little nerd. I can't believe you couldn't read the normal healthy-red-blooded-male signals! Not only did I cook you dinner and write you notes, along with a particularly sweet email, I twinkled my eyes at you! I don't twinkle my eyes at just anyone!"

Ginny gaped. "You…erm…_twinkled_ your _eyes_ at me?"

"Surely you must remember. I did it quite often in your presence. Any more, and that twinkle might've made me batting my sodding eyelashes."

"Ah. Well, thanks, Malfoy." If this guy could twinkle his eyes at will, he was most surely a scary adversary. She didn't know what to do. Gathering her things, she crept towards the door.

"Ahem. And where do you think you're going?"

Ginny looked up. Instead of the nice wooden door, there was a Malfoy. "Well, for a while now, I've been wracking my brain as to why the high and mighty esteemed Professor Malfoy would have sex with a Weasley – and a _grad student_, at that. I just figured that if you could control the very _twinkle_ in your eyes, you must either be very much a player, or some talented _guru_ with special control over his body-shimmer. The former theory was furthered tempered by the supposition that you would _only_ have jumped in bed with little old me if you were most _especially_ a player. Therefore, to gather what little pieces of my heart that are left, I think I shall _depart_." Ah, the italics again. Welcome back, old friends, Ginny thought grimly.

Her professor gaped at her. Then he turned away, muttering. Ginny thought she could hear the characteristic "Three… point… one four…one five…" Then he whirled on his heel and faced her. His face was even paler than normal. "Is it that easy for you?"

"Um… no, not really." She shook her head sadly. "But I _knew_ it was too good to be true. Especially that _email_…Well, they say prevention's the best cure, isn't it? That's what vaccines are _for_, after all…"

His paleness returned to its normal shade. He was shaking his head. "You silly, silly girl." He wrapped her up in a hug. "You have nothing to be afraid of. Though you're certainly adorable when you're being shy and sweet, I do very much admire the vixen who walked into my lab demanding that I help her create a vaccine for anthrax. I even appreciate that girl who raves emphatically about the beauty of the viral life cycle. So stop being so insecure. I've never felt so confident about a graduate student before. Not only are you intellectually driven, but you also managed to receive grant funding on the first attempt. You're wonderful. You're bright, witty, honest, earnest, perhaps a tad on the enthusiastic side, or possibly a bit on the late side, but passionate and beautiful. Don't you remember what I told you on the first night we were together?" He cleared his throat. "Something along the lines of you being physically and mentally lovely? Quite a catch? The hair, the papers, the eyes, the analytical sense, the friendly face… does that sound familiar?"

Ginny was blushing. Of course she remembered. But he hadn't really meant all that, right? Wasn't that just standard pillow talk, especially for a Malfoy?

She realized belatedly that she'd actually said those words. Typical. But then he was talking.

"Ginny," he announced regally. "You put the 'zing' in 'amazing.'" He sighed. "If I wasn't so confident in my own charm and good looks, I would think that I didn't deserve you." He looked at her woefully. It had just enough honesty and more than enough Draco to make her heart skip a beat.

She smiled. "You? Confident, yes. Undeserving lover, no." She touched his cheek. "You've really put the 'joy' in 'Malfoy' for me, you know." She wrinkled her nose. "As sappy as that sounds. And Draco Malfoy, you're already everything a girl could want: you're smart, successful, savvy, and sexy, not to mention witty, resourceful, and culinarily-inclined." She paused. "The twinkling thing, though? That was a bit on the odd side. It was unusual and totally OOC, as in 'out of character.' It made me question quite a bit of the previous information, and several hypothesizing Why's took over." She giggled. "There's the science again. But honestly, you can't fault a girl for being slightly weirded out by a twinkle-toed, er, twinkling-eyed PI."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Well, to be completely honest, I was only hoping that they were actually twinkling. Your own eyes light up so well, really. I had to try it myself." He smiled ruefully. "It wasn't easy, you know. I had to import my old magical mirror to make sure I was doing it right. I don't think I could've carried through with it if she hadn't criticized my technique."

In spite of herself, Ginny laughed. "You _practiced_?"

"Twinkling? Well… I might have. But I am indeed a natural, I assure you." He leaned back, looking at her, admonishing and admiring. "I think I love you."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "You know, I think I've come to the same conclusion."

**-v-**

(Notes#1: Enzymes are a type of protein that assist in chemical reactions; basically the reagents for these reactions (substrates) bind to a spot on the enzyme. These bindings are very specific, and have to fit exactly right (a lock and key model); otherwise, the reaction won't occur.)

(Notes#2: Yes, Ginny's sort of a nerd. Therefore, she's entitled to have an inferiority complex or two, isn't she? A moment of doubt, at least?)

(Notes#3: Asexual reproduction is reproduction through one parent, usually by budding or self-fertilization.)

(Notes#4: "Exothermic" – this term describes a chemical reaction that emits energy, which is usually seen in the form of heat. Chemical bonding itself is caused by electrons getting "excited" or getting enough energy to jump from one element to another element.)

(Notes#5: _"You and me," he growled. "In parallel or in series?"_

It sounds odd, I know, but it's a circuit reference! This is a tribute to computer science/electrical engineering. Guess what my b/f majored in? And the current's still sizzlin', I assure you. ;))

(Notes#6: A rational number is a number that can be made into a whole-number ratio. For example, 2 is a rational number b/c it equals 2/1. 8/9 is also a rational number. The square root of two can't be made into a whole-numbered ratio, so it's irrational. Pi keeps going till infinity. It's also an irrational number.)

(Notes#7: Kinetic energy is the energy produced when an object is in motion. The formula for kinetic energy (½)(mass)(velocitysquared).)

(Notes#8: I would've made the smut more serious and angsty, but it just wouldn't come out that way! Too much of a nerdy dorky humor fic. But if you really feel like smut/angst/ReallyNaughty/NC-17 stuff, feel free to read some of my smutlets on They're probably going to be developed into actual stories sometime…)

(Notes#9: j-omega pole… origin… that's from differential equations. I'm not sure exactly how to explain it, but it sounds delightfully wicked, doesn't it?)

(Notes#10: Scientists usually take notes in a lab notebook; all of your data should be kept in here. Attenuated viruses are often found in vaccines; they're viruses that have been weakened. For example, if you heat up a virus just enough to make it 'dead' or 'weak,' then when you inject it, a person's immune system can recognize key components of the virus and fight it if the person ever encounters the real thing.)

(Notes#11: "Callipygian" – one of my favorite words. It means "having beautifully proportioned buttocks." :oD)

(Notes#12: Also, I just realized that "The Desk" by Fearthainn is currently featured on the Fire and Ice Archive home page. I haven't read it recently, and therefore have taken no ideas from it. I do agree that desks are quite sexy, and quite frankly, there's probably no better place in a PI's office to do the nasty. Perhaps the bookshelves, but they tend to be a bit rickety. And Ginny and Draco did move into the chair and all around; the desk was just for added leverage. ;) Just a plagiarism disclaimer!)

Thank you very much for reading! Feedback is quite welcome, so please review. :)

By the way, a friend of mine has written The Uber Biology Geek Test (http / www . okcupid . com / tests / take ? testid 3171472814873021250) on OkCupid. Try it out!


	6. Epilogue: References

**Abstract:** Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

**Rating:** Naughty, and this is the chapter with the smut. Woohoo!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except for my own MIT-spackled background knowledge, which might or might not be correct.

**-vi-**

**Epilogue: References**

_To infinity and beyond! The future's in "cite." ;) (Just tying up loose ends.)_

**-vi-**

"Finally, these are my references. Now, if anyone has any questions…"

As she wrapped up her thesis presentation, Ginny looked out at her audience. She had developed an amazing vaccine, a novel experimental process, and an academically astounding thesis. Her best friends, professors, and loving supporters had come to see it. She recognized a few of her previous students. She caught her parents looking surprised at Ron and Pansy.. She noted that her parents looked even more surprised at Rob, and specifically at Rob and Harry, who were discretely holding hands. She nodded at Hermione and Percy. She saw Shaunna idly playing with Fred's hair. Next to him were Vickie and George and their twins. Everyone was glowing. Finally, she caught the eye of her lovely primary investigator. He was grinning. Draco Malfoy, grinning in a crowded room, especially for her.

**-vi-**

Ginny Weasley had found what she was looking for. She was fulfilled academically, biologically, and lovingly. By the end of her fourth year, she had successfully developed the first 'safe' vaccine for anthrax – no side effects, just pure science. Mingled with a tiny bit of magic. After all, prevention was the best cure.

After she graduated, she immediately served as a post-doc in Draco Malfoy's lab. MIT soon offered her tenure, and she took an office space down the hall from her husband. Her laboratory specializes in viral pathogenesis and she has a wall full of sparkling sterile glassware. If you visited her today, you'll find a lovely silver plaque on her door:

"_Ginevra Weasley-Malfoy, PhD."_

**-vi-**

**References**

Reference#1: One of the best collections of pick-up lines (both nerdy and normal) is on "Ask the Beaver," a site run by MIT students on dating/relationship advice. Check it out: http / askthebeaver . blogspot . com / 2005 / 01 / q5-pick-up-lines20.html

Reference#2: By the way, a friend of mine has written The Uber Biology Geek Test (http / www . okcupid . com / tests / take ? testid 3171472814873021250) on OkCupid. Try it out!

Reference#3: If you liked "PhD," you'll probably appreciate this collaborative effort with my sister in our early fanfic days. Feel free to check out H2O Combustion (http / www . fanfiction . net / s / 1390706 / 1 / )

(Especially Chapter 3, "Pick-Up Lines and Lucky Charms.")

**-vi-**

Notes: As I mentioned before, this story was inspired by the laboratory in which I'm currently working. We've got a Harry-look-alike who's not like Harry at all. The lab tech still looks exactly like Ginny Weasley. The student I'm working with is tall, blonde, and lovely, like Narcissa Malfoy. We've got two guys who have been christened Crabbe and Goyle. The PI is totally Dumbledore, albeit Asian. We've got a Prof. Flitwick, Hermione, and Cho Chang. And me? I've been declared Tonks. (Though yes, I'm Asian.) Now to snag that pink hair! Woohoo!

This was just a quick chapter to tie up a few loose ends. Thank you very much for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated, so please review. And if you're one of the coooooolest reviewers, I might stick your name in the next story with a customized Mary Sue just for you!


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